


Gentle Hands

by halfpastten



Series: Pokemon Smut Collection [58]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Gentleness, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pokephilia, Porn with Feelings, Size Difference, Slow Romance, So no smut until later, it's a bit of a slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25619476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpastten/pseuds/halfpastten
Summary: Armin tends to sickly and injured Pokemon. Terrakion protects those that can't protect themselves. One day they meet and in a series of unfortunate misunderstandings they start to get to know each other.
Relationships: Original Male Character(s)/Terrakion (Pokemon)
Series: Pokemon Smut Collection [58]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615384
Comments: 70
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

Terrakion smells the blood first and he grows worried. It isn’t rare for injuries to occur within his territory - Pokemon fight, it’s in their nature. Even accidents can happen. But still, he worries every time he senses injury, for the smell of blood reminds him of years and battles past. Even now, with the wars far back in history, he dreams of them.

So when he smells the human close to the source of Pokemon blood, his thoughts full of old nightmares, he grows angry quickly, his mighty body moving forward even faster to carry him towards the danger.

There he sees them - the Pokemon, a tiny Cherubi still shivering in fright, the wound not quite fatal but large enough it would scar; and the human on his knees, bending forward and hands outstretched, the murmur of their voice not reaching Terrakion’s ears.

He lets out a roar before thinking, enjoying the flinch the human shows, the instant fear in their reaction. He does not anticipate the way the human shifts as they turn to face him, bringing their body between the Sword of Justice and the trembling little slip of a Pokemon. Only then does Terrakion finally sees the face of the human. It is a young male, on the cusp of adulthood, and far from the image Terrakion had in mind when he’d smelled the human so close. This is not a warrior or soldier like in the days past, one who’d wield a sword so surely to almost earn his respect.

No, this human trembles almost as much as his prey behind at the sight of the Sword of Justice. This human isn’t dressed for a fight. His body was slim, his hair grows long and his hands are pale and soft-looking. It only serves to grow Terrakion’s anger, this display of _softness_ in the face of the cruelty done, makes him step forward, eyes narrowed as another roar climbs up from his throat. Again, the human flinches, but he doesn’t move.

Terrakion readies himself for a charge - if the human wants to be stubborn, it is to his own detriment. This, at least, garners more reaction from the fiend, who scrambles to his feet in an attempt to flee. Not only that, but he also dares to grab the Cherubi! Incensed, Terrakion jumps forward, running after the swift young man, his heavy hooves thundering down.

Luck, it seems, is on his side - they’re close to the border of his territory and the land he swore to protect. The human is quick on his feet and almost manages to escape Terrakion with his prey, but here the trees grow thicker and their roots are trickery. Soon, the human falls prey to them, his feet catching and his body crashing down. Bellowing his victory, Terrakion storms forward - and then he stops, confused when he sees how the human curls around the Cherubi in his arms during the fall, twisting his body around so to land on his back.

A terrible crack sounds as the root doesn’t give. Terrakion knows even before the first pained cry echoes around them, that the bone has been more fragile.

Yet still, through gasps and tearing eyes, the human holds the Cherubi close, and the look he gives Terrakion is full of panic. His left feet in an odd and unnatural angle, useless and the flesh already swelling up, he still tries to distance himself further from the Sword, and when he notices that he can’t anymore, he again curls himself up around the Cherubi.

Putting himself between the Pokemon and the perceived threat.

Almost protective.

The sight has Terrakion take a step back, his anger retreating for the moment. The beginnings of something that feels like guilt twist at the Legendary’s stomach where it mingled with the deep confusion, but before he can step forward and ensure that he was seeing things right, to take a better look at both the human and the Pokemon still cradled to his chest, the cries of the injured human have lured in more of his kind, calling out for him.

“Armin!” calls a female voice. “Armin, are you okay?”

They come closer; he can easily smell them, hear their steps as they seek out their injured kin. And Terrakion, suddenly unsure, retreats enough to be hidden from their sight as they arrive. The female lets out a worried cry, two other males close behind her as they descend onto the human called Armin. One of the males takes the Cherubi with surprising gentleness that only strengthens the guilt in Terrakion’s breast, even if he’s still not sure if he should feel it at all.

These are humans, after all, and no matter what the other Swords say about them nowadays, a whole host of past atrocities play all too vividly behind Terrakion’s eyes every time he closes them.

Still, he doesn’t dare approach closer. He can see the tell-tale little balls on the belts those three new humans are wearing, and he will not lower himself to fight through their Pokemon in an attempt to best these humans. So he watches, conflicted between righteous anger and terrible guilt, as the broken ankle is tended to, Armin’s face pale and stricken and his cheeks wet with tears.

They don’t stay long, not with the injured one warning them about his presence somewhere close. His inner conflict remains until the humans cross the unseen borders of his territory, taking the Cherubi with them.

And still, Terrakion wonders if he shouldn’t have just smitten them all.

\---

The image of the human curled around the Cherubi doesn’t leave him. It haunts him just like the dreams of war and death, lingering in his mind for a chance to be thought about. Even days after the incidence, Terrakion can’t say what really has happened - if the human has hurt the Cherubi or if he protected it.

It has him pacing the borders of his territory, sniffing the air for a human scent, listening for human voices. Waiting for them to come, to avenge his chasing of their kin.

But they do not come, and with each passing day, the guilt grows worse. Terrakion has done many things he lives to regret, but causing harm to someone who has done nothing more than _protect_ , the very thing that is his duty? That, he will not forgive himself. And yet, he is unsure of it, can’t say for sure what it was he’d seen.

It eats at him, how the memory changes with each repetition; now, he sees a fiend fleeing from him, his prey in his grasp. Then, he sees a protector desperate to put a distance between a perceived threat and his charge. One interpretation ensures his rage, the other his shame.

He is not surprised when, at the end of a week without a solution to his problem, Terrakion once again stands at the edge of his borders. The smell of the human is so weak he almost misses it - stronger yet is the lingering scent of Cherubi blood. Still weak, still almost gone, but stronger a trace than the fear and stress of the one called Armin.

For a long time, he stands there, his hooves leaving nervous groves in the soil as he turns in circles. He shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t even contemplate it. And yet, there is a need to make sure. It is not beyond his abilities to communicate with humans, after all; a thought that feeds the guilt, for he could have simply talked to the human before the rage has taken over.

Hindsight isn’t something to be entertained, however, and thus the decision is still to be made: go out and search for an answer or wait here and hope for one to come. Terrakion doesn’t like to delude himself - those humans would not come here again, not if they think him a threat. And here the scent lingers, tempting him to venture out of the safety of his territory, something he has not done for decades. Not because it goes against his duty - that, he would not allow himself to do no matter how much he yearns for an answer -, but because the world is so very different each time he does.

Terrakion is _old_ , so old and tired of changes in that strange, human world. There are no more wars and only minor conflicts, and yet he fears what awaits him outside.

So he keeps pacing, he keeps thinking, he keeps sniffing the air until day turns to dusk and the air grows heavy with future rain.

Rain that will wash off the lingering scent if he waits for much longer.

It is enough to make him take that step forward, and another one, and many more as he crosses the border of his territory in search for the human who wouldn’t leave his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


	2. Chapter 2

Terrakion doesn’t know for sure how long it has been since he last left his territory. Decades, maybe; it is hard to count the years when centuries have passed already. What is one more season, one more year to him?

He regrets it now, his silent fear of humans. Regrets not keeping up with the times. Human territory, he now knows, is tricky to navigate. Not only their cities - those he doesn’t dare to enter. Who knows what his sight might provoke in those living there? - but starting earlier yet: It is their woods, their fields, their streets; whole landscapes touched and altered by humans, _tamed_ by them. The Pokemon living here, he notices, are content with it, have already adapted to them.

Humans are no longer the great enemy, but his heart knows different. Every night, he remembers; every dream contributing to his lingering fear and suspicion.

How often was there a fight, a war, brought by humans and their greed and need for things that weren't theirs?

He’s out now, though. Out of his territory, in a forest younger than himself. The scent of week-old blood is long gone; he follows a path instead, the foul odor of gasoline marking his way, burning in his nose. Whoever those humans are, they have fled within one of their unnatural contraptions. At least back then, during the Bad Times, they had used natural things to move along.

They also hadn’t been this fast.

For hours Terrakion moves along, sometimes walking, sometimes running. Other Pokemon that cross his way are wary of him at first, but some would chat with him as they try to keep up. They know where humans live and are helping him; he will repay them later, but for now he simply thanks them as he marches on.

The settlement, when he finds it, is small and on the shores of a lake. More than a day he has run, and now he is tired, the sky darkening yet again. Sleep doesn’t come, however - he chases it away, feeling restless.

Anger and guilt, his companions for the whole journey, feel both numb within his chest as he stares at the houses the humans have built.

“I should go home,” he tells himself, voice deep and rumbling, but he doesn’t; not until he knows. Conflicting feelings lead only to more unrest, to more nightmares, and he is tired of them, too. If he has to enter a human settlement, to infiltrate those fiends to finally find some rest, so be it. He will not be known to be a coward.

 _But what if he did protect the little one,_ a traitorous voice whispers in his head. _What if you attacked unprovoked? What then?_

“Then I will make amends,” Terrakion says, no matter how humiliating the thought is. But he pushes away the anger he feels; anger that a human has done this to him, has reduced him to self-doubt. It is his own fault if true; if not, he can rekindle his anger and smite the human.

For now, however, he needs to find him. The settlement isn’t big, but there are still a few dozen houses by the shore, surrounded by a smattering of fields. He can smell lightning and gasoline, humans and Pokemon down there.

The sharp smell of medicines coming from a brightly painted house a few paces away from the others attracts him first - it is a bigger house than most, with a generous garden and land surrounding it. It is also closest to the forest, and from there, the smell of other Pokemon are strongest.

 **Pokemon Rehabilitation Center** , it says over the door, but he can’t make out human script.

With the sun going down in the west, darkness creeps over the lands. Human lights come to life. The source of the gasoline, a metal contraption, stands still in front of the house.

When the Sword scents the thing, he can smell the hint of Cherubi blood underneath the cloying smell of the thing.

He rests, finally, after a few rounds around the property. Soon it will be morning - already, the sky blushes with that first brush of light. He retreats in the forest, safely hidden underneath trees and bushes, and trusts his colours to do the rest; then he closes his eyes.

When he wakes, he will settle to watch this house. Watch for Armin, and what he does. What kind of human he is. When Terrakion is sure, he will approach him; whether to smite or to apologize, he doesn’t know yet.

He doesn’t hope for any one of the two.

\---

Sleep doesn’t hold him long. He is almost thankful for it: again, his dreams have been more disturbing than restful. But what wakes him is the sound of a Pokemon screaming - pain, that he knows.

Terrakion is up before he is awake, already moving towards the sound. The house is near, and from there, the scream is echoing until ebbing out into whimpers. He rushes faster, not minding the young trees breaking under his assault.

There is the metal contraption in front of the house again, and two humans moving about the back of it. One of them sees him, the other one (slender, long hair, _Armin_ , his mind provides) petting the small Ponita that lays on the flat part of the wheeled thing.

The human shouts, fanning Terrakion’s rekindled anger. Fiends, surely, that he sees them yet again with an injured Pokemon! The smell of Gasoline intensifies, and he can hear a loud roaring growing louder yet, as if closing in-

Something hits him hard. An attack from the side - the power considerable. He can feel his body breaking where he is hit and tumbles aside. There is more shouting and his vision is clouded red. He roars, too, half from pain and half from fury, and when he looks up, he sees another moving contraption. The female he has seen before climbs out of it, panic clear on her face.

“Get away from it, Armin!” someone cries and Terrakion rears his head. He will take them down with him, he will smite them, and there is the sound of swords clanging in his head, the roar of many voices, arrows sizzling through the air and blood everywhere.

There are soft hands on his body and he strikes. Another scream, pain rippling through the voice, but the hands find him again, still soft, still gentle. The smell of human blood is strong. “No!” the pained voice says, and Terrakion sees long, dark hair fanning out, hands moving to the sides of Terrakion’s head. “No, he’s hurt. Stay away! I think he’s afraid!”

More anger lits up at the words. He does not fear; he is no coward. But he can now see the wound he has dealt to the human - he can see the blood blooming on his side. It mingles with the scent of his own, and he is yet again reminded of the pain.

“Calm down,” Armin says, eyes wide and fearful and determined. It confuses Terrakion - the humans have striked him; why does the young man not kill him? Instead, he leans forward, his hands soothing as he rambles on. “It’s okay, I got you - Steve, can you bring the Ponita inside? We need bandages and two- no, three bottles of spray. Numbing, too. Hey, I got you, don’t worry, I got you…”

The other humans fuzz around; he can see how they linger. Smart - he yearns to strike Armin again. And yet he doesn’t. They are both injured, but Armin doesn’t hurt him further. He stays with him as items are brought out, leaning heavily to one side, the smell of blood growing stronger.

“Let us help you,” he says, voice slurring now. His freckled face is alarmingly pale, and somehow Terrakion knows that his wound must be serious. Why doesn’t he go away? “Let us take care of it.”

“Armin,” someone says again, and Terrakion feels, curiously, how his anger fades. His pain does, too - something cool and soothing spreads over his side and his eyes grow heavy. Another male human comes close and reaches Armin as he slouches forward. When they pull him away, Terrakion can see a large amount of blood, but his own eyes close now.

He misses those hands as he drifts into unnatural sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


	3. Chapter 3

“-not a good idea, you should rest more-”

“-wake up alone, probably afraid-”

“-still hurt!”

Terrakion wakes, eyes still closed and his body relaxed. The sleep he rises from has been curiously absent from any dreams and memories, but he does remember, slowly, what has happened before he’d fallen asleep - the pained cry, his attack, the contraption ramming into his side, warm hands and a soothing voice, the smell of his own blood and someone else’s. Part of him wants to jump up and see where he is, who else is here, attack, defend; but mostly, he wants to stay still for a moment longer and see what will happen.

He’d twice attacked without thinking, and twice the outcome has been terrible. Besides, for some reason, his body isn’t as much in pain as it should be. There is a hollow ache in his side, a tight feeling, but it is nothing like the sharp and horrible pain he’d felt when he was tackled.

One of the voices, he notices, is familiar.

“I can do this. I don’t want him to wake up without anyone present - it will only stress him out even more.”

“He already attacked twice, Armin. It’s far too dangerous.”

“And every time he attacked, we were around a hurt Pokemon!”

“This theory again? Just because you don’t know what kind of Pokemon he is, doesn’t mean he’s some sort of legendary protector!”

An argument between humans. An argument about him. Terrakion can’t help but notice the irony of it; to have the one he’s hurt twice now argue _for him_. Guilt rears its head, worming its way through his chest and weighing heavily on it.

“I don’t want to hear any more about it. I’m serious, Ben, it’s just my arm, I can still handle myself fine.” Armin sounds tired, and Terrakion remembers the blood, the paleness of the young man, the way his body has listened to the side despite the calm touch of his hand.

But he is up and about again. Whatever wound the Sword has dealt the human, it isn’t threatening enough to bind him to bed. Chancing a glance, he can see the two humans at an entrance. Terrakion can’t see Armin’s face, but he can see the face of the other male; an older human with glasses in front of his eyes and neat facial hair. Something like reluctant defeat shows in his eyes as he sighs.

 _”Fine,”_ the other one says and sighs again. “But take care. If anything happens, if he’s still aggressive, call for help and get out of the way, yes?”

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Armin says defiantly, but the other one just snorts.

“You kneeled next to an injured and aggressive Pokemon and got hurt because of that,” he replies, and the guilt in Terrakion’s chest grows monstrous, a squirming thing that squeezes the air right out of his lungs. “Look, even if your theory is true, he clearly associates you with hurt Pokemon, not with healing them. So play it safe. Don’t approach him when he wakes up, keep your distance.”

With that, the other one turns away and closes the door behind him. Armin stays for a moment on the spot, but then he turned around. Terrakion catches a glimpse of his arm: bandaged and tied in place so it will not jostle around. Then he closes his eyes again, feigning sleep.

_He clearly associates you with hurt Pokemon, not with healing them._

It can be a trick. Humans are witty creatures and not above to lie and lure others into believing them. But Terrakion has not detected any lie - just genuine worry.

A healer. If it’s true, he has hurt a healer not once, but twice.

He can hear steps. Armin is moving about in the room. It is hard to pinpoint him down; what he’s doing, where he’s going. He doesn’t make lots of noises, but after a few minutes, he hums in tunes Terrakion doesn’t recognize but are pleasant to hear. Finally, the steps come closer and then there is some shuffling and the soft rustle of clothes.

He is sitting close-by and Terrakion can feel his gaze on him.

Minutes pass, silence stretching longer and longer. Armin doesn’t move that often - a shift here and there, but nothing more. Terrakion doesn’t know what to do: open his eyes and set out his task? Should he even reveal his capability for human speech, interrogate the young man? Or should he stay silent, feigning sleep until Armin gives up and leaves so that Terrakion can make his own escape?

He doesn’t even know how long he has been asleep. Days could’ve passed. All he knows is that he is in a room in a human dwelling and that it smells of medicine. And Armin is here.

With a sigh, Terrakion opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is a worried, still-pale face and an arm in a sling.

“Oh,” the human says, blinking twice. The line of his shoulders is tense for a moment, but when Terrakion doesn’t move, it eases away and a smile lights up Armin’s face. “Hello there. Please don’t attack me.”

The _again_ stays unsaid, but the Sword is not a fool - it is only reasonable to be wary, as the other human was. It is almost insulting that Armin risks being here, alone with his attacker. The human is either arrogant, hopelessly naive or doesn’t care at all about his own health, and Terrakion can’t say which is worse. He doesn’t say anything, in the end, just watching Armin as the young man shuffles a bit closer, careful not to move too fast and to keep his hands open.

Not hopelessly naive, then.

“You were hit by a car,” Armin continues and puts out his uninjured hand for Terrakion to see. He holds nothing in it and the other one is clearly not usable right now. “I want to check on your bandages. You’ve been out of it for two days and will likely have some problems moving for another two.” He keeps his voice calm and low and Terrakion thinks that most Pokemon would find it soothing. Maybe he does, too - he doesn’t panic at his words and even lowers his head a bit.

He wants to see what Armin will do, even if that means letting him come closer, letting him touch his wounded side.

Breathing out, the human crosses the distance without looking away from Terrakion’s face. The Sword meets his gaze evenly, not showing any of his guilt or confusion. Nothing of his conflicting memories of humans, and Armin’s obvious show of care. And then the hand lowers down on Terrakion’s broad back, warm and soft and familiar, and Terrakion _knows_ that it isn’t a hand made to hurt.

He’d hurt a healer, and he knows it, and the shame he feels has him close his eyes as Armin slowly, carefully, opens up the bandages to check on the wounds underneath. It is slow work, with just one hand, to reapply whatever medicine he uses and to redress the injury, and not one time does the human do something suspicious, something that might harm the Sword. He has every chance to - Terrakion keeps his head down, breathing in and out at a slow pace to show his willingness to cooperate, and Armin does nothing but what he says he wants to do.

He’d hurt a healer.

“Well done,” Armin says when he finishes. A moment of hesitation, and then the hand is placed at the side of Terrakion’s head, fingers slowly rubbing soothing circles. “Are you still sleepy? There’s water here and some food, let me bring it to you.”

Every word digs at his pride. Points out how he has misjudged him for being a human. Not once, but twice now. Terrakion feels too ashamed to even think of talking to him, to tell him that it’s fine, that he should go, back to his territory and away from this settlement.

He should’ve stayed there, isolated from this weird and modern world where humans are so different from their past. In the face of this change he feels old, impossibly so. Old and unchanging and guilty. But then Armin is there again, first with a bowl of clean water, then with a selection of different foods; when Terrakion, after murmured encouragement, chooses one of the plant-based foods, Armin brings more of it.

Under his watchful eyes, he eats it all and drinks his fill and calls himself a coward for complying, for not talking, for staying, for a thousand different things. He eats and drinks and Armin smiles and praises him as if he is just another Pokemon and not a Sword of Justice.

His hand keeps rubbing soothingly over Terrakion’s skin, which makes it just that much worse.

“We’ll get you up and healthy again in no time, promise. I don’t know why you were so angry before, but… I hope you know we just want to help.”

Daggers, each and every word of kindness. Terrakion calls it repentance, and vows to face it all as penance for his sins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


	4. Chapter 4

“We’ll get you up and healthy again in no time, promise. I don’t know why you were so angry before, but… I hope you know we just want to help.”

Armin watches the Pokemon, his hand still running small circles on the side of his head. The Pokemon huffed and closes his eyes, hiding the troubling look they showed. For a few seconds longer he stays, noticing the reluctance with which the Pokemon leaned into his touch - wary, slow to trust, or simply still tired and in pain? It is hard to tell - the wounds are on their way to mend fully, with the medicine and Chansey’s help. Maybe he will call for her again, see if she can’t fasten the healing a bit more.

Slowly, Armin pulls his hand away and stands up. The Pokemon has eaten, which is more than he has hoped when he decided to stay with him in the room. Something is wrong with him, something more bothering the strange Pokemon than just his injuries.

 _Guilt?_ , he muses, but he can’t be sure. All he knows is that the Pokemon has attacked him twice, but now he is almost docile. It is enough, for now, to show him trust and caring. Armin can’t and won’t fault the Pokemon for his attacks anyway. He never does - unless owned by a truly vile human, he has never seen a Pokemon with malice in their heart, and he doesn’t want to start thinking of them like that even now.

“I’ll come back later. Sleep a bit more, yes?” he murmurs and turns, leaving the room while careful not to make too much noise. Injured Pokemon can be quite skittish, and especially with this one he doesn’t want to risk it. Whatever kind of Pokemon his newest patient is, he is strong to survive the car hit with only a few broken bones, some cuts and lots of bruising.

“Armin!”

Halting at the call, Armin meets Ben’s relieved eyes. He smiles and waves and wonders how long it will take for him to be able to use his left arm again. Having only one hand to do his tasks is troublesome. “Look, I’m still alive!”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Ben snaps, making Armin feel a bit guilty. He knows that his friends care about him, and that they often hate his reckless attempts when it comes to helping Pokemon. He gets it - Pokemon can be dangerous, wild ones especially. “How is he, then?”

“Hopefully sleeping again soon. But his torso looks as good as we hoped, and he showed some appetite eating. Root vegetables and greens,” Armin adds. “And before you ask: He was surprisingly docile after waking up. He let me check on him and didn’t flinch away from contact.”

Ben continues to look sceptical, but the lines of worry on his face ease away a bit. “That’s… good, I guess,” he admits and looks Armin over. “I still think that you should get some rest yourself. Working like that-”

“No chance,” Armin interrupts and raises his hand. “I have the priority now. Maybe when he reacts well to being introduced to you or one of the others, but even then I want to keep an eye on his recovery.”

Ben lets out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes up. “Suit yourself. I’ll talk with Amy, she’ll help you out. Any plans for him, then?”

“A few. I want to see if we can’t get Chansey over again, Nurse Joy should agree to that. The sooner he heals up the better - his wounds aren’t the worst I’ve seen, but he looks almost depressed, which is worrisome. I also want to introduce him to other patients as soon as possible, let him out a bit. It might help him trust us when he sees other Pokemon.”

“Sounds good.” Ben nods and briefly puts his hand on Armin’s shoulder, fingers squeezing lightly. “Take your lunch break and call up Nurse Joy afterwards. But sit down for a bit, you look peaky.”

Pulling a face, Armin wriggles out of reach from Ben. “Yes, mum,” he mumbles and dodges a poorly-aimed smack to his shoulder. “I’m still injured!” he calls out with a grin, already hurrying away.

“Brat!” is Ben’s answer.

\---

Chansey is send over - Armin picks her Pokeball up from the device next to the PC, not even thinking about the marvel of it. He only wishes that humans, too, could be packed up and send to locations as fast as Pokemon these days.

Releasing her from the ball, Armin greets the gentle Chansey, who immediately zeroes in on his arm. “I’m fine, Chansey,” he says a bit testily as she starts to prod and poke, tutting at his grimace. “We have other patients.”

“Chansey,” she argues and somehow conveys with perfect clarity what she thinks of his attitude. She is remarkably like Nurse Joy a town over, nice and capable and a force to behold when someone is hurt or ill. Armin has no other option but hold still and let her do her thing as she checks on the long gash on his arm.

When she is done, Armin huffs and helps her rebind it. “I told you it’s fine. As long as I don’t use it, my arm should be better soon enough.” She glares at him and he adds. “But thank you, I guess.” That earns him a bright smile and a pat to the head and he can’t help but grin at her. “Let’s go and see the other patient, yes? He’s a bit down, so if you can help him heal faster that would be nice.”

The unknown Pokemon is awake when Armin enters the room after knocking at the door. Seeing Armin, the Pokemon at first regains his wary attitude, but it quickly shifts into a bit of confusion when Chansey bustles in, already chirping her greeting.

“She’ll take another look at you,” Armin explains, even though he knows they might already be conversing with each other. “Chansey, take your time. I’ll prepare his dose of pain killers.”

“Chansey,” she replies evenly before bowing before the Pokemon, which has Armin stop for a moment. That is- weird. And nothing he has seen her doing before. Shaking his head, he leaves them be and goes to fetch the medicine. His own arm is aching again, but he waits taking his own pills. His patient might be wary of the pills and react better when he sees Armin take his own.

When he gets back to the room, Chansey is almost done. Under her soft chanting, the bruises fade away at the edges and the swelling around the cuttings recede as well. Broken bones are harder for her to urge on, but Armin hopes it still helps.

The unknown Pokemon certainly looks a lot more relaxed now, even when his head turns around to watch Armin. When Armin smiles in greeting, the Pokemon lowers his gaze, however.

“Aw, nothing of that, now,” Armin blurts out. Seeing the Pokemon like that didn’t sit well with him and he moves forward and sits down next to his patient, trying to coax him into looking up again. “You’ll be up and running again soon enough. Are you in pain? I brought you some medicine to make it go away.”

He puts the dish on the floor between him and the Pokemon and watched him take a wary sniff. When Armin offers him one pill to try, the big head moves away again, causing Chansey to titter reproachfully as she redresses his side. The Pokemon huffs, shaking his head and Chansey stills for a moment.

Armin, who is watching the small exchange, looks down on the pill before trying again. “They’re not bad, I promise. Look, I have similar ones I take.” The pill is put onto the dish and he pulls out his own plastic container, shaking it a bit to show off his pain killers. “For my arm,” he adds with a rueful smile. “They help a lot. Won’t you take yours?”

Chansey gives out a soft sound, beseeching in its own way, and Armin knows she tries as well, but the hurt Pokemon shakes his head and pushes the dish further away. Exchanging a helpless look with Chansey, Armin is surprised to see something like sad acceptance on Chansey’s face.

But why doesn’t he want to take them? Not mistrust - Chansey would react differently then. A conscious choice, one she doesn’t know how to object to.

Maybe he doesn’t want the pain to go away. Something clenches in Armin’s chest at that thought, followed by a rush of stubbornness. “It’s okay, you don’t have to,” he says and both Pokemon look up, surprised at his words. “But then I won’t take mine, either.”

Immediately, Chansey is upon him, chattering and glowering like the mother hen she is. His patient is still, but he looks shocked and in dismay. Armin doesn’t give in, however - he puts the dish with the Pokemon’s medicine away, closer to the wall but still perfectly reachable for his patient, and makes to stand up, his own pills clutched in his hand. “Argue with him, not with me,” he tells Chansey with forced cheer before softening his voice for the other Pokemon. “I get that you don’t trust us yet. And you might feel bad about this whole situation. But I’ll be with you the whole way, whichever way you want it, okay? Just the same. As long as you get better, it’s okay with me.”

For a moment he holds the Pokemon’s incredulous stare, but he can feel the ache of his arm. His smile becomes a bit strained and he shakes it off. “I’ll be back with dinner in a bit. Tomorrow we can see if you’re ready to move around.”

He can feel his eyes on his back when he leaves the room with Chansey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


	5. Chapter 5

He doesn’t believe him. When Armin walks out of the room, plastic container in his hand and the worried Chansey following him, Terrakion settles back down and doesn’t believe the human. Not that he means it - that, Terrakion can see. But he doesn’t think that Armin will keep his word, and thus refuses to feel guilty for that, too.

Pain can be powerful, and many beings have taken back their promises when under it. Terrakion will not feel bad when, come dinner time, Armin returns with a probably woeful expression, explaining that he could not stand the pain any longer.

He, on the other hand, has felt far worse during his life. The little white pebbles promising numbness are not seducing him. He _needs_ the pain, the reminder of his failures. Pain is often enough his only way to repent. Maybe, if he heals through it, the heavy, shameful weight on his heart will lessen.

Maybe it will make it easier to bear Armin’s kindness.

But then Armin returns and it takes Terrakion one look to his face to see that the human has not broken his word. There is a paleness to his skin, a tense line to his shoulders, and his smile is strained. Some movements look more restrained now, and when he moves to fill Terrakion’s bowl with the food the humans provide, he utters a soft hiss when jostling his slinged arm.

The fool has not taken his medicine and is feeling the same deep ache as Terrakion. Not out of self-punishment, but in _support_.

Without thinking, Terrakion heaves himself up, not minding the sharp pain in his side lancing through him. The human’s eyes widen, and for a moment Terrakion thinks he might fear him; but no, he comes closer, food forgotten.

“Don’t,” Armin says and his hand is warm on Terrakion’s face. “You’re not ready to move like that, what if your wounds open?”

“Fool,” Terrakion snaps, damn the consequences. He feels more than sees the human flinch in surprise and the Sword uses the distraction to fully climb to his feet, now on eye-level with him. “Why would you not tend to your own arm?”

Armin is gaping at him, hazel eyes wide. His hand has fallen off of Terrakion, a detail he keenly notices. “But- you-”

“Are you not in pain? Have I not wounded you? Take your medicine, stubborn human, and stop minding about me!”

“You can _speak_ ,” Armin breathes instead of cowering or, more sensibly, listening to him. No, the foolish man stays right where he is, and there is a wonder in his eyes as he reaches out again. Terrakion almost rebuffs him, but then Armin touches his cheek and he freezes, only now realizing that he has given himself away.

Worse is the look of utter fascination and wonder on Armin’s face as the human leans closer. For a moment, they simply stare at each other, and then… then Armin blinks. “You can speak,” he repeats, a hint of incredulity swinging in his voice. “And you didn’t do it _before_?”

The human sounds remarkably like the Chansey - exasperated and thin on patience. For some reason, Terrakion has the urge to look down or away, but Armin keeps his hand at him. He isn’t anywhere near as strong enough as to keep Terrakion at bay, but the Sword doesn’t want to risk hurting him _again_. The guilt and shame he feels are strong as is, he doesn’t need to feed it anymore.

“There was no reason before,” he tries to defend himself, but he knows it was cowardice that kept his mouth shut. And now he is lying, just so that-

That what? That Armin does not think lesser of him for his initial deceit?

“You mean besides all this mess? _Look at me_ ,” the human says, and he says it with so much command that yes, Terrakion raises his head. To his surprise, Armin doesn’t look too angry - flustered, yes, but angry he is not. Just… exasperated. “You could’ve said something the first time. Do you know how long Chansey had me in bed for my ankle? Worse yet,” he continues, merciless in the face of Terrakion’s burning shame, “you got yourself hurt as well! And now you’re not taking your medicine and try to lecture _me_? **Lecture**! No.”

Taking a deep breath, Armin’s face sets into stubborn lines, mouth pressed together, nostrils flaring a bit. “No,” he repeats and then he turns around to pick up the untouched pills, shaking the dish in front of Terrakion. “Eat up. You shouldn’t even be standing right now. _Lecturing me_ ,” he says underneath his breath.

The Sword just stares at the human for a few moments, speechless and utterly confused. Whatever just happened, he does not understand. But somehow, the tone and delivery of Armin’s word are enough to compel him to take the medicine, slow and dazed from the fierce little speech.

He’s swallowed the pills before he can think further about this, and then Armin nods and starts to push Terrakion back to his padded resting area.

“God safe me from stubborn patients,” he says and gives Terrakion a scratch behind his horns. It startles the Sword out of his stupor, but Armin doesn’t seem to notice. “By the way, if you don’t want the others to know, I’ll keep your secret. I figured that you just blurted it out.”

“I- ah, might have, yes,” Terrakion grumbles. Slowly, his brain catches up on what just happened - Armin has scolded him. Him! He is a Sword of Justice, is he not? And yet he got scolded not once, but twice on this very day. It only proves that Armin is indeed a healer. He certainly has the lungs of one. “And I would appreciate it. I would also, well- apologize. For wounding you twice.” He winces at his slow and hesitant words, but Armin barely stops his scratching.

“Don’t worry about it. I reckon you thought I’d hurt that Cherubi, right?”

“I should have stopped to ask you,” Terrakion replies and notices the tilt of his own head - he’s pressing against Armin’s clever fingers and hastily pulls away. How embarrassing. “I came here to see if I made a mistake that day and promptly jumped to conclusion again. It is my fault, I shouldn’t have-”

“Is that why you didn’t want your pain killers? That’s stupid. You did what you thought was right, and since I’m the one who got hurt both times, I can decide if you should feel guilty about it.” Armin’s logic is thoroughly backwards, but the human looks satisfied with his theorem, grinning at Terrakion.

It still looks strained. The human hasn’t taken his medicine yet.

“Then I will stop with it. In the meantime, tend to your own needs. There is no reason for you to suffer more because of me.”

The grin widens for a fraction and then Terrakion hears it - a snicker, a light, bubbly chuckling. It’s a near unbearably sweet sound. Fitting, then, for the young healer.

His mind shies away from that thought; better he concentrates on the little plastic container the human pulls out of his pocket. Armin’s pills are a lot smaller than Terrakion’s, and he only takes two of them, swallowing them dry. “Satisfied?” Armin asks and Terrakion nods.

He can already feel his own medicine working - the sharp pain ebbs away. If this continues, he will not feel any pain soon. What a curious medicine, so very human. “Just so,” he replies shortly and lowers his head, huffing out some air. “You are truly not angry with me?”

“Not one bit,” Armin promises solemnly and places his hand on Terrakion’s shoulder, rubbing slow circles there. “I’ll see you whole and healthy again. Let’s be friends, yes?”

Friends. He has friends, but for the longest time he hasn’t seen the other swords. He will heed their call, and they will heed his - that is their duty, to be there when the world needs them. To protect, to defend - to attack. But a human friend… maybe it will help him understand these confusing times.

He can think of worse things, than having Armin as his friend.

“I’d like that,” he says and is treated to the sight of a small, bright smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


	6. Chapter 6

Slowly, reluctantly, Terrakion learns to trust Armin’s words. It is not that he thinks him necessarily a liar that he needs the prove - it’s just that the things the human promises seem altogether too hard to keep.

But Armin hasn't taken his medicine until Terrakion gave in. And two days after revealing his ability of human speech, Terrakion’s secret is safe, with only Armin knowing better.

There are a lot of little things that assure Terrakion as well; during his recuperation, Armin is the main human to tend to him and to entertain him in the long hours inside. They quietly talk during the day, mostly about Armin and humans and the modern world Terrakion has found himself in. Any curiosity Armin might feel doesn’t get expressed, as if the human knows that the Pokemon doesn’t yet want to speak of himself.

One of the many secrets remaining is Terrakion’s status as Sword of Justice, something other Pokemon are aware of. Chansey’s bow is left unspoken of between the two tentative friends, as well as Terrakion’s great anger at seeing other Pokemon wounded. But they share that anger, even if they express it differently: Armin and his friends, Terrakion learns, are all healers. And this very human house, he learns, is a place to tend to Pokemon like him, who are unable to go to a Pokemon Center.

Rehabilitation Center, they call it. For the crippled and the untamed, any Pokemon too affected by their injuries to function without care and help and those who are not caught, and therefore do not benefit from it. He can smell the Pokemon they bring in; those that stay, those that can be released early.

Terrakion doesn’t see any, though, until Armin finally tells him that he’s well enough for a walk. “Some sun and fresh air will do you good,” he says with a wide smile. His arm is still in a sling, but some of the stiff bandages are gone now, revealing old bruises and a fledgeling scar or two. “We have some nice gardens outside. Just no roughhousing.”

“I am not a youngling,” Terrakion replies with an indignant voice.

“That doesn’t keep other Pokemon from frolicking about with only half-mended bones,” Armin says and laughs at Terrakion’s expression. “Come, I’ll show you the way.”

Terrakion has seen the gardens from the outside during the night; in the light of the day, they look all the more pleasant for a piece of tamed nature. Whoever tends to them has tried to preserve a touch of wilderness, even with the restrictions a place of healing causes. There are no big trees and slews of bushes to hide behind, ideal for the workers to spot their patients quickly.

But the grass is green and full of wildflowers and there are berry bushes and little trees for shade; a shallow pond sparkles invitingly in the sun close to the back wall of the building; even vegetables are raised along one hedge, in high beds. A little Ponyta stands there, busy pulling carrots.

He remembers the Ponyta - he’s seen him already, on the back of the contraption Armin calls car; he remembers the painful angle of his hind leg and the way he screamed. Now, the Ponyta wears a clumsy cast, but he walks, prancing around with his carrot when he manages to pull one out of the loose dirt. Mane flaming merrily, the Ponyta quickly spots him and Armin and, cast and all, hobbles up to them.

“Aren’t you about today,” Armin cooes, taking in an entirely different tone towards this Pokemon. The Ponyta is clearly young and reacts favourably towards Armin’s call, nudging the young man with his head in affection. Then he eats his carrot and eyes Terrakion quizzically.

 _”Should I bow to you?”_ he asks after a moment.

 _”Only if you want to,”_ Terrakion replies in that way only Pokemon understand.

 _”I think I do, you’re strong,”_ the Ponyta says and drops into a fumbling bow. Only then does Terrakion remember his human friend, who is staring at the young Ponyta and then at Terrakion, mind working and whirling behind his expressive hazel eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, though. Not as long as they’re out. Instead, he ushers Terrakion to walk and take in the sun. His eyes, however, stay on Terrakion and the Sword knows he will ask him later when they are alone.

It makes him pause for a moment - that he already knows that later, they will be alone in his room. And there it is again, this short break of thought, as Terrakion stumbles upon his own mind.

His room. _His_ room. And what a given, to spend his evenings with Armin, whispering about the world and its secrets, letting the human pet him like any common Pokemon. A few days he is here, and already he looks forward to their quiet, shared moments. He calls Armin his friend, no matter how reluctant, and he even thinks it might not be such a danger to tell him about his duty when it isn’t any of the human’s business.

He should go, Terrakion realizes. He becomes complacent. He _enjoys_ Armin’s company, to walk beside him, to tell him small things about himself, to listen to Armin’s stories; he likes the way Armin’s hand feels on his skin and is on his way to learn all the faces the human could make, knows the way his eyes shine when happy and his lips tug upwards at a joke.

He should go. He needs to go. Terrakion is healed enough that he can go back home and heal in his forest, away from these humans and their tasty food and gentle hands. He doesn’t belong here, no matter how welcoming Armin is. He might be able to trust this one human, but it is only a matter of time for either of them to slip up, for the other humans to get curious.

 _I will tell him tonight,_ Terrakion thinks, half-listening to Armin’s soft voice as he tells him about the Ponyta and other patients in the garden; those they cross bow to Terrakion, only adding to the thoughtful look on Armin’s face. _I can’t stay, not even for him._ And for a moment, he thinks he would like Armin to come with him for a visit, but what would a human want in a forest?

No, better to end this now, this fledgeling friendship between the two. Terrakion will go back to his forest, and Armin will stay here and help many other Pokemon, and Terrakion-

Terrakion will again be alone until someday, maybe, the call for the Swords comes. Never before has this rung so hollow to him.

\---

He talks the moment the door is closed, before Armin even has the chance to speak up before him. “Tomorrow, I will go back,” he says, and he can’t look Armin in the eyes.

Before coming here, before becoming friends with Armin, Terrakion thought he knew guilt. He has felt it so fiercely, he thought, when he wasn’t sure if his attack had been justified. But now, for some reason, it feels worse and he doesn’t even know why.

It is his decision, is it not? To go back home, to leave this behind. The world of humans is not his. Armin is a human, and he-

He is not Terrakion’s. And if he stays, Terrakion has to tell him everything. He is not a good liar; already, his secrecy is eating away at him. But it is not something for a human to know. Not even one he calls a friend.

“Oh,” Armin says, after a few second of torturous silence. “But-” He stops, and Terrakion wants to see, wants to know the look on Armin’s face. But he doesn’t look. Doesn’t dare to. “You- is it about today? I won’t ask, promise.”

He is sharp, Terrakion thinks. But it doesn’t help - even without Armin asking, Terrakion feels too much at ease with him after such a short time. _He is so young_ , he suddenly thinks and he feels sick with it. _He will stay young and die young, because he is a human and mortal and Terrakion is not._

What is he thinking, befriending a human? “I need to,” he says and looks down and to the side, but not at Armin. “I have- there are duties. I am already gone too long.”

He nearly flinches when he feels Armin’s hand on his neck, thumb pressing soothingly against his skin. The touch has him looking up and then he can’t look away again, caught by hazel eyes. “I won’t force you to stay,” Armin says and smiles, but it isn’t his sunny smile. It’s not sunny at all. “I just- will we see each other again? Will you visit?”

“I don’t know,” Terrakion says. He will miss the human. “Yes,” he corrects himself and doesn’t feel any regret.

A measure of happiness returns to Armin’s smile and the human nods and moves a step forward. “I’ll bring you to the edge of the forest, first thing tomorrow,” he promises and then he hugs Terrakion, a warm weight leaning against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


	7. Chapter 7

“I really don’t understand this, Armin,” the female human says, exasperation clear in her voice. It grates on Terrakion’s nerves, the way she looks at Armin and him, how she doesn’t believe his friend. “He’s not fully healed yet. You don’t usually let them go this early.”

“I already told you, he wants to go,” Armin says and he, too, seems annoyed at her vehemence. “Just- trust me, Linda. I worked with him. He’s pretty good at communication.”

Her eyes flicker towards Terrakion and he lowers his head with displeasure, shuffling his feet. Moving closer to Armin, he huffs and looks toward the end of the property. They would walk out of this settlement and to the forest; Armin has promised. And Terrakion knows he can trust him.

No matter what the female says, they will go there today.

“Are you _sure_?” she stresses, and Terrakion can’t help himself but bristle at that, already on edge. The whole previous night he has been awake, asking himself if this is the right thing to do. His head says yes - he should go home, put some distance between himself and Armin. His heart, however, wants to stay, and Terrakion is terrified of the implications.

“I am,” Armin says, and he sounds so formidable, so very unlike his soft and gentle appearance. There is steel in his voice and fire in his eyes and the female finally relents and steps aside with a sigh.

“It’s on your head,” she tells Armin. He nods and smiles a tight little smile, so different from his usual sunshine smile. It makes Terrakion’s chest ache, to see him like this. But he can’t stay. He just can’t.

Maybe it is already too late, but if he goes home now, he might avoid even bigger problems.

“I’ll be back soon,” Armin says. He doesn’t promise it, he just says it, and then he walks past her and Terrakion follows on his heels. He can feel her stare for a long time as they walk away from the healing house, down the street and further away from the human settlement. The sounds of it fade away the longer they walk and Terrakion wants to open his mouth and ask how Armin feels, but he doesn’t dare to.

It is wrong, the way the Sword feels unsure in his presence. He should not feel inclined to care about humans, he should not yearn to spend even more time with one. He should not call a human his friend. But he is, he is calling him friend, and his heart aches with it.

Terrakion wishes that Armin would reach out and put his hands on his neck, soothing and warm and soft and strong in equal measures. But he’s terrified and doesn’t ask.

In front of them, the forest looms. A day’s worth of walking through it would bring Terrakion to his territory, back into solitude. The other Swords are farther away still, keeping to themselves until the call comes to unite yet again, and Terrakion feels dread mounting up at the thought of being alone again, of not having Armin there to sit next to him, to lean against him, to talk and joke and laugh his sweet laugh.

By Arceus, he is doomed, isn’t he?

Shuddering, it takes a moment for Terrakion to notice that he has stopped and that Armin is watching him with worry in his hazel eyes. “Is something wrong?” the human asks and now he is coming closer.

When his hands caress Terrakion’s jawline, his brain stops. He doesn’t say: _Come with me._ He doesn’t beg: _Don’t leave me alone._ He doesn’t ask: _Would you stay with me?_.

He doesn’t admit: _I think I love you, and I am afraid._

Because Armin is human. He is human and mortal and wouldn’t understand. He is human and mortal and might very well just see him as a friend. That hand, warm and soothing and soft and strong, might turn against him. The worry and the fondness in his hazel eyes might turn to cold disgust. He might say: _No_ and turn away, and that terrifies Terrakion even more than going back to his lonely home, to wait for a day that might never come. To stay in his isolation until he knows that Armin is dead and gone and will never return.

Instead, he leans into the hand, breathes in Armin’s scent and swears to himself to never forget. Instead, he silently apologies to be the one to break a promise between the two and swears he will not see this human again.

“I’m okay,” he says, and steps forward to gently nuzzle Armin. His heart leaps when Armin hugs him close and bleeds when he hears the hitch in Armin’s voice.

“I’ll miss you,” the human says, unaware of the daggers of his voice, digging deeply into Terrakion’s chest. “Come visit me soon, yes?”

And Terrakion hates himself with rare fierceness when he smiles. “I will,” he promises and steps away. Then he forces himself to turn around and face the looming forest.

"Wait!" Armin cries behind him and he stops, heart pounding in his chest. "Can you- I don't even know your name."

Terrakion hesitates, but this is something he can give him. It is the least Armin deserves. "Terrakion," he says, throat tight. "My name is Terrakion."

This is for the best, he tells himself and it tastes like the lie he just told Armin. Bitter and ashy and heavy in his stomach. For the best, he repeats silently and walks away.

\---

The walk back to his home is longer than he remembers. Maybe it is the way his feet drag; his body, it seems, is as unwilling as his heart to leave the human behind him. It is an exhausting fight, to force himself each and every step forward, to lumber through the forest when all of him wants to run back the way he came from.

But it needs to be done. He can’t stay there. He has a duty, and besides, he can’t love a human. They are fragile; time takes a toll on them Terrakion can never understand. One day, Armin will be old, and then he will be dead, and Terrakion will be alone again.

But the haunting memory of Armin’s warm hand, his smile and hazel eyes, his hitching request of “Come visit me soon, yes?” follow him. He can’t think of anything else. Not of his lonely home, nor the things he learned about humans, nor the old memories of wars long gone.

It has been a few nights now that he has last dreamed of those wars, and that thought finally startles him out of his gloom. Because rare is the night he does not remember the cruelties of those times, the bloodshed and slaughter and terror of it. Yet within that human house, with Armin by his side, he has not dreamt of it.

It is another reminder of what he is leaving behind, and Terrakion feels like he can’t breathe. He wonders how long Armin will wait for him before he knows Terrakion has lied, and he chokes on that question. He wonders if Armin will grow to hate him for this, and he almost turns around, to beg the human to come with him, to beg him to stay.

He doesn’t turn around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


	8. Chapter 8

The first days pass, and Armin doesn’t let himself worry. Instead, he holds the warmth of finally knowing Terrakion’s name close to his heart. Still, he feels profoundly sad about his absence, more than he has thought. In the evenings, he misses their secret talks; misses the way Terrakion would keenly listen to his stories, misses the small things the Pokemon would tell him in exchange.

But Armin goes on, because Terrakion has promised to come back for a visit. A few days, Armin thinks, before Terrakion is fully healthy again. A week, perhaps, to settle down back in his forest. A fortnight, maybe, to attend to his duties? He doesn’t know. So he sets aside his worries and tries to fill the hole Terrakion has left with his work and his human friends.

Days go by, and quietly his anxiety grows. A fortnight goes by, and Armin can’t help but think of Terrakion, always looking east when he is outside, towards the edge of the forest, hoping that he can see a glimpse of his friend.

The third week passes, and then a month is gone by, and Armin’s worry becomes panic, because surely Terrakion would’ve come visit by now?

 _Not if something’s happened_ , he thinks to himself, stomach churning. _You let him go when he asked, but how sure are you that he is healthy again?_ What if he’s hurting, what if something inflamed, what if he’s alone and waiting for him, _what if he’s dead-_

Armin wrenches his thoughts away from this path, heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t know, _he can’t be sure,_ and it isn’t something he can simply leave as is. Terrakion has promised to come visit; he would not lie to Armin.

“Vacation?” Ben gives Armin a long look before he nods. “You look like you need it. Stressed out, huh? The last couple of weeks were busy.”

“Yeah,” Armin agrees. He doesn’t want Ben to know - it would only lead to more questions. None of them he can answer without telling his friends a secret that isn’t his to share. “Is it okay? I know it’s sudden, but I could really need a week off.”

“Well, Nurse Joy took some of our patients over, so I don’t see why not. Take your phone with you; I don’t think it’ll come to that, but if we get another rush, I’d rather you can come back early.”

The paperwork is quickly done, and then Armin is packed and in his car. It takes a lot of him not to rush forward; instead, he calmly says his goodbyes and drives off, along the road. He doesn’t know for sure where to find Terrakion (if he can find him, anyway), but he will start where he’s seen him the first time: in the old forest, where Armin has found the hurt Cherubi. He remembers that day well - a Trainer has called the rescue and they’d gone and fanned out to find the hurt Pokemon.

Armin swallows, hope fighting against dread in his chest. He needs to make sure Terrakion is alright. A month is a long time with wounds not yet healed.

_Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t-_

(In his trunk, he has two first-aid-kits and other equipment with him, and he doesn’t dare think about it.)

The drive takes him three hours. He would’ve gone faster, but halfway through the road enters the forest and becomes bumpy and tricky to navigate. It ends next to a hiking path, one of the less popular routes no matter the season. Today, too, it is empty, and he parks his car in the small lot underneath big and imposing trees. He takes one of the kits with him; it weights like a ton in his backpack, but again he tries not to think of needing it, tries to hope that this isn’t necessary.

Instead, he thinks that he will simply find Terrakion, who tells him that if he had waited only a day or two longer, he’d have come to see him. Hopes, instead, that everything is alright and he will tease the big Pokemon for taking his time. They will spend the evening talking and joking like before, and the next day they will walk through the forest and Terrakion will show him his home.

The hope rings hollow in the wake of the dread that is still churning painfully in his stomach, but he clings to it as he goes deeper into the forest, beyond any paths.

It is quiet. There are birds chirping and insects humming, but other than that, Armin only hears his own steps and the rustling when he climbs through the thick undergrowth. He has only a vague understanding of the way he needs to take; the trees here grow so high, blocking out most of the sun, and the ground is, when not covered in underbrush, thick with moss. The air smells humid and of many green and growing things and Armin feels small and young in here. He might as well had gone back in time, it feels so old in here.

No Pokemon crosses his way, and he doesn’t know where he is going. The place where he’s found the Cherubi is as elusive as his friend, and with every hour passing, Armin feels like he is too late.

(Don’t think about it, don’t think about it.)

“Terrakion?” he finally calls, tentatively still. The first-aid-kit feels so heavy in his bag and his throat feels tight. “Terrakion!” he calls, louder this time as he walks forward, always forward, and he is lost in this forest, but he doesn’t care. Any thoughts of his way home and his car and his friends are gone, and he can only think of terrifying things: of Terrakion, all alone, still hurting, unable to come see him, unable to call for help.

“Terrakion!” he yells, and the sky above him is darkening now. How long has he been here? How long until he finds his friend? (If there is anything left to find, because he is too late, he waited too long, why did he let him go, why didn’t he go with him-)

“ **Terrakion!** ” he cries, his voice echoing through the age-old forest, and there is desperation and fear and worry in his voice, but he doesn’t care. He just needs something, anything to help him find the Pokemon, and he’d run like the wind towards his friend.

But there is no answer. The forest is quiet again, and Armin feels his heart clenching, his breath hitching. “Please,” he whispers, to whom he doesn’t know. He needs to keep going, needs to find him, needs to-

There is a rustling to his right, and Armin whirls around, heart leaping. “Armin!” a panicked voice cries, and he doesn’t wait for confirmation but runs towards it.

Terrakion, eyes wide and wild with panic, runs out of the thick bushes, and Armin is there and flings himself at him, his smaller body crashing against Terrakion’s strong one, arms wrapping themselves around his neck.

He is crying before he can utter another word, helplessly clutching at his friend as the relief hits him like a punch to the gut, his knees weak with it.

“What happened? Are you alright? Armin, talk to me!” Terrakion sounds as terrified as Armin has felt for the last few weeks, and he can only sob harder, fighting for breath.

“You didn’t come!” he finally gets out, hitching and wet. “You didn’t come and I- I thought something happened, I thought you’re-” Even now, he cannot bring himself to say it. Fears that if he does, Terrakion might vanish again.

“You thought I-” Terrakion’s voice halts as well, but he presses against Armin’s hug, carries Armin’s weight. “I’m fine, Armin,” he finally says and Armin rears back, vision blurry.

He doesn’t let go fully, but he flinches backwards. “Why didn’t you come?” he asks, hoarsely, and he hates himself for how _hurt_ he sounds. It has only been one month, and Terrakion is healthy, so why is he so unhappy?

“You need to go back,” Terrakion says instead of answering, and now Armin lets go, stumbling back, rubbing at his eyes. “You shouldn’t have come, Armin. Go back.”

And oh, but it hurts. It hurts and tears at him, and Armin doesn’t know why.

(Because Terrakion has promised. Because those evenings together meant something to Armin. Because he thought that Terrakion liked him. Because all those things, and so many more he couldn’t put into words.)

“Why?” he asks and his voice nearly breaks over that simple word. When Terrakion doesn’t answer, he feels anger rising up, but he knows it’s only hiding more hurt. “I was worried, I thought you were hurt. Why shouldn’t I have come?”

“Because,” Terrakion replies, but nothing more comes from him. And Armin takes a long, good look at him, his breath lodged in his throat.

Terrakion looks lost and hurting, just as Armin feels. But why? Why send him away?

“Why do you even care?” Terrakion finally blurts out, and he shuffles and doesn’t look at him and he looks miserable. “Why are you here? Why don’t you forget about me, why-”

He is angry and hurt and still wrung out from his worry and terror, but Armin isn’t _blind_. During long evenings and talks and jokes and laughter, he has seen Terrakion.

He knows him. Which is why he doesn’t yell and doesn’t turn away and doesn’t go home. It is why, instead, he steps forward, ignoring the way Terrakion starts to move away.

It feels utterly natural, the way his arms find their way around Terrakion’s strong neck, avoiding his sharp horns as he hugs him, and Armin notices how Terrakion goes utterly still in his embrace.

“Because you’re important to me,” he whispers and puts as much of his emotions in it as he can, even those he cannot name. “I’m not going, Terrakion. I’m not. Please don’t ask this of me.”

He holds him tight, eyes closed, and listens to Terrakion’s breath. Ragged, he notices. Slowly calming. And then, slowly, Terrakion leans against him and nuzzles his chest, and something inside it, pulled taut during this talk, relaxes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


	9. Chapter 9

He leans into Armin’s hug, face pressed against the flat chest, listening to the soft breathing and the heartbeat of the human. His arms feel warm and secure around his neck, his scent familiar and soothing, and Terrakion suddenly feels so tired.

For a month, he has forced himself to stay away. For a month, his nights have been restless and his days lonely. For a month, everything in him wanted to return to the human settlement, to that house at the edge of it, to the smell of medicine and Pokemon and _Armin_ , so much that it hurt at times, a physical _ache_ deep in his chest. It had been torture, plain and simple, to keep himself away from all of that, but he knew it was for the best. Had known.

Now, with Armin so close again, he isn’t even sure anymore.

Hearing Armin’s voice had been a shock. At first, Terrakion thought himself finally crazy - at least then he could excuse it if he walked right back to Armin. Insanity is a good excuse, right? But then, he heard it again - his name, echoing through the forest.

And again, and again, and each time it sounded more desperate, and suddenly Terrakion knew it wasn’t just in his head, but Armin was here, somewhere. Sounding afraid.

_Sounding afraid._

He’d run, then, blowing caution into the wind. For all that Terrakion tried not to give in to the temptation, he couldn’t bear the thought of Armin being hurt. The last cry of his name had been the worst - so broken, so desperate -, and Terrakion had run like only once before, when he’d been needed, when his brothers had called for him.

And there Armin was, shaking and in the middle of his forest, looking lost. The way those hazel eyes zeroed in on him, how his body moved towards him, how Armin reached up - with both arms this time, he’d healed up -, how he flung himself onto Terrakion..!

And then he’d cried, and there had never been a more grievous wound than the one dealt to his heart. It made it impossible to look at him, to _lie_ to him, even when he tried. And oh, how desperate he tried.

But Armin didn’t go away. He looked at him and saw right through him and then he called him important, and Terrakion knew that it was over. Leaning into those warm arms, he knows it is over and done with and he doesn’t care, because he is tired of even trying.

He is so tired of being alone, and Armin called him _important._

“I’m sorry,” he says. The moment he breaks the silence, however, Armin shifts and suddenly he pulls out of the hug, hands pressed to the sides of Terrakion’s face, eyes still red and puffy, but now clear and sharp and _angry._

“Why did you lie?” Armin asks and by Arceus, Terrakion doesn’t want to answer that. Any words he tries to say are lodged in his throat, beneath the lump sitting there choking him. “Terrakion, why? I _waited_ for you! And now that I’m here, you try and send me away? Don’t lie to me again. I want you to look at me and tell me why.”

For a moment, Terrakion tries to bristle and be angry himself. He shouldn’t let a human order him around. Nobody should dare, nobody should stand in front of him and demand.

But it is Armin, and Terrakion knows he is the coward here, not the human. It is so hard to look him in the eyes and say anything but the truth that tries to crawl up his throat.

“I can’t-” he starts, but Armin leans forward and Terrakion feels tired once more. This, he knows, might drive Armin away, but… he tried, too, didn’t he? He tried to keep away, to keep _Armin_ away, and to lose the human this way would be a twisted kind of justice indeed.

He is already on the way to destroy whatever there is between the two.

“Because I love you,” he says and watches as Armin rears back in surprise, in disbelief. Let him think he only jests - maybe this way, he would not hurt the human any more. “And I shouldn’t. Because you are important to me, and it isn’t done.”

“You- but-” Armin stutters. Terrakion wonders why he doesn’t pull his hands away, but their warmth gives him a measure of strength and bravery. It keeps him going, and he is thankful for that.

“You’re a human, Armin. Human and mortal, and I-” he hesitates just a moment, watching him, waiting for the rejection. For Armin to turn away. He steels his heart for that. “I am not,” he finally admits, words a weary sigh, and waits.

He doesn’t expect for Armin’s hands to remain. Doesn’t expect for Armin to close his mouth, his puzzled expression turning into a thoughtful one.

Doesn’t expect him to _blush_ , and suddenly Terrakion isn’t tired anymore.

“You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met,” Armin says and then- then-

Terrakion’s brain stutters out the moment Armin’s warm lips press against his snout. It is a clumsy gesture, awkward. Armin’s lips aren’t soft and plumb; they’re slightly chapped. But they press firmly against him, in that curious human gesture of affection, and despite him never expressing it that way, Terrakion knows that this is a kiss.

He holds still, terrified that this is just a trick of his own mind. But then Armin shuffles and pulls back, face reddened with embarrassment and something like uncertainty flickers in his hazel eyes.

It is an unbearable thing, so Terrakion leans forward himself to slowly, carefully, nuzzle Armin’s neck. Fingers curl lightly for a better hold and Armin presses his lips against him again, with renewed confidence.

It doesn’t feel like the end of the world as Terrakion has feared. It feels so much better, better than anything before.

“Just for the record,” Armin whispers and moves his lips upward, brushing Terrakion’s jaw. “I’m still angry at you. So, so angry.”

“I know,” Terrakion says and nudges him, gently, to draw his eyes towards him. “I just didn’t think-”

“I noticed,” Armin replies dryly, but he smiles as well. There is sunshine there, a stark contrast to the miserable month past. “And we’re going to talk about it all tomorrow. Now I’m mainly glad that I found you, you idiot.”

Never has he thought an insult might sound so sweet. Terrakion can’t help but smile himself. The thought of talking about difficult things isn’t nice, but it also implies talking to _Armin_ , and right now that’s the best thing he can imagine.

Tomorrow, he will not be alone.

\---

Terrakion leads Armin through the darkness. It is far too late to bring him back to his car, but it is warm tonight and dry - enough for the human to sleep outside. The whole old forest is Terrakion’s home; unlike humans or even other Pokemon, he doesn’t settle in one spot. But throughout the forest, Terrakion has, during centuries of dwelling here, created countless of little spots and hiding places to sleep in. One of them is close, but he wouldn’t mind a longer way either; Armin is leaning on him during their walk, a warm small weight and a hand on his neck.

The spot is not quite a cave; the ground falls off into what was once a small brook. The dried bed is covered in soft leaves and moss and underneath the great roots of an even greater tree, there is an overhang. Some fifty years ago Terrakion had dug deeper here, creating enough space to snugly fit and be protected from the rain.

With Armin, it is a bit tight, but he doesn’t mind the human snuggle close, head on Terrakion’s shoulder.

“You’re warm,” Armin says, voice sleepy. Terrakion shifts a bit, making himself more comfortable for the human, and is rewarded with Armin going lax against his side. “Still angry, though.”

“We will talk tomorrow,” Terrakion promises quietly. “And then, I will tell you everything.”

“If you lie again, I’ll shout at you.”

This night, Terrakion doesn’t dream of war and blood and death. He dreams of warmth, of a small weight against his side, of warm lips and soft hands and hazel eyes shining bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


	10. Chapter 10

Terrakion wakes up and for one, horrible moment, the last night seems like a dream. But then Armin moves in his sleep, warm and slouched half-across Terrakion’s side, tucked safely between his front legs and his belly, and the fear goes away. He basks in the novelty of it - of waking up with someone else.

Armin moves, and Terrakion watches him, his chest impossible warm and light. Bending his neck, he nudges Armin carefully and the human wakes, blinking for a moment before he gives Terrakion a slow, sleepy kiss.

Terrakion thinks his chest will burst and he asks himself why he ever tried to get away from _this_. It is so much better than waking up alone. So much better than weeks of self-hate and nightmares.

“Good morning,” Terrakion says and it is. It is an exceptionally good morning, watching Armin stretch and yawn and curling up again, eyes open now and fixed on Terrakion. And then Armin smiles and it is his sunshine smile.

Something lurches at the sight. “I love you,” Terrakion blurts out, a repeat of his previous confession. And like last night, Armin blushes upon hearing this before smiling even brighter.

“I love you, too,” he says with confidence and satisfaction, obviously and visibly delighted to say these words. Then he beams at him and Terrakion is sure he looks similarly idiotic, but he does not care.

For once, he does not care. Instead, he nuzzles Armin’s sleep-warm cheek before hesitantly licking along his jawline.

“Oh,” Armin says and reddens even further, but his delight remains and his eyes glint with mischievousness. He doesn’t hesitate to copy the gesture, tongue smaller and warm and wet on Terrakion’s tough skin.

“You taste like soil,” is Armin’s amused judgement, but he does it again. It creates a curious, wriggly feeling low in Terrakion’s stomach, but it is a good feeling he doesn’t mind.

“You taste sweaty,” Terrakion replies and Armin is laughing. “Are you hungry? I have no human food, but there are berries to find around.”

“I have some in my backpack,” Armin says and stretches again, languidly. His shirt rides up high, exposing a strip of freckled belly and hip bones. For some reason, Terrakion’s attention zeroes in on that and the wriggling feeling grows stronger. “Where did I put it…”

Armin turns and sits up, already reaching for his backpack. His hair is a mess of dark locks. He looks lovely.

“So, it’s the next morning,” he says with a yawn and pulls an apple and a banana out of his backpack. The banana looks a bit squishy and browning and he grimaces at it. “You said you’d tell me everything. And I- I really want to know what you meant with me being mortal?”

Just like that, Armin’s quick mind cuts through Terrakion’s good mood. The Pokemon sighs before he nods solemnly, settling back onto the mossy ground. “You know mortality, yes? Humans are born and grow old and die.”

“As do Pokemon,” Armin says with a stubborn tilt.

“As do most Pokemon,” Terrakion corrects quietly. “As do most. But some don’t. They are born and they grow, but they don’t grow _old_.” It is hard to put into words, the sheer time he has been alive. The things he has seen. The very fact that beyond killing him, he will live on and on, leaving Armin behind.

“Terrakion,” Armin says and he’s there again, breakfast temporarily forgotten. Terrakion welcomes him back into the fold and enjoys Armin’s arms around his neck. “Are you saying that you don’t die?”

“I can still be killed,” he replies and sighs when Armin’s face falls. “I was born - I’m not sure when I was born. But humans were living in small settlements, in wooden buildings. There weren’t as many there. Later, they made weapons out of iron and then they used black powder, and each time they fought. The last war I remember happened close to the Moor of Icirrus.”

“Icirrus,” Armin repeats slowly and then his eyes sharpen. The human is smart, Terrakion knows that. He is so fast to put two and two together. “You’re one of the Swords.”

“Yes,” Terrakion says, and even know he can’t feel shameful for that. It is an honourable duty, to protect his kin, even if he isn’t needed right now. Hasn’t been needed for a long time. “It is my duty. And I thought- I couldn’t bear it. To have you, and then to lose you.” He stops for a moment and lowers his head. “To tell you the truth, I doubted I would ever have you at all.”

For a while, they are both silent. Then Armin shifts and his hand is on Terrakion’s chest, his thumb rubbing small circles. One leg is pressed along Terrakion’s belly, the other arm thrown around his neck, and his head lays pressed in the crook of Terrakion’s neck, warm breath tingling on his skin. The Sword shudders slightly and Armin presses his lips on his neck.

It feels like a jolt of electricity dancing down his spine and his stomach twists a little.

“Aren’t you lonely?”

“Yes,” Terrakion admits and breathes out. It is warmer now, even though the sun is not far up, yet. “My territory is the east. The others are far away. For now, however, you are here.”

“Hmh,” Armin muses and kisses him again, almost absentmindedly, before sitting up again. Terrakion wishes Armin to continue, to keep kissing him, to keep making his stomach twist and tingle, but he doesn’t say. “That’s right, I’m here. And I’ll stay with you, no matter what you say. I want to try this- see where it takes us.” He smiles and makes to stand up, grabbing his apple. “Can you show me around your forest?”

\---

The mood lifts with their walk. It feels like they are in the garden again, only this time it is Terrakion that tells Armin about their surroundings. He shows him the little hidden nooks and crannies where Pokemon have made their homes. Sometimes, a Pokemon or two come out to greet them, and Terrakion translates for a delighted Armin.

They feed on ripe berries and, in Terrakion’s case, on wild roots and mushrooms and drink from little streams. When they reach a little clearing, Armin spends some time fashioning a flower crown for Terrakion, who sneezes from the pollen.

It is one of the best days Terrakion has had in a long time, and when he tells Armin that, the human smiles a smile that is part sunshine and part sadness and he hugs Terrakion again, which he doesn’t mind at all.

It isn’t that Terrakion thinks Armin can live here with him. Humans need more than water and berries; they need their houses and meat and vegetables and fruits, they need other humans and their little contraptions and light in the night and other things. But Armin admires the forest openly, which pleases Terrakion a great deal, and he talks about setting up a little hut for vacations if Terrakion allows it, of visits between the two, of Armin coming here and Terrakion coming to his town, of making things work between the two.

Armin thinks a lot about them being together, as he calls it. “I love you, and you love me,” he says with satisfaction in his voice, one hand on Terrakion’s neck, and the Sword rumbles with pleasure. “So we ought to spend a lot of time together, you and me. It’s like dating, really - we both have our work, but there are days off, yes? And it’s not too far away - I can drive here in two hours. With the truck, I can drive you back even. Besides, I think that some things are better done here.”

“Which things?” Terrakion asks, because what else is there than walking together and sharing meals, sharing warmth in the night and talking until the stars come out before bedtime?

“Well,” Armin says and blushes, a thing he does often now and which Terrakion thinks suits him perfectly. He blushes when Terrakion nuzzles and licks him, and when Armin kisses him. “I don’t know how we might do it, but there’s sex and stuff.”

Terrakion knows, of course, what sex is. Old as he is, he has seen it for himself, especially in springtime, when his forest is full of hopeful Pokemon on the search for a mate. Having Armin speaking of it, though, makes his brain go kind of fuzzy and has his stomach twisting again. “Oh?” he manages to say, and Armin blushes deeper now, his fingers pressing a bit firmer against Terrakion’s neck.

“If you want,” he blurts and Terrakion stares at him, the twisting not stopping. Sex - well, he certainly has all the things for it. But he knows he cannot reproduce. Not even with a female. With Armin, who is human and male, it’s even more impossible. And Terrakion has never been interested in these things; never looked at a Pokemon and felt aroused and compelled to try.

Looking at Armin, cheeks reddened and eyes clear and smart and a face full of freckles, makes his stomach twist and twist, and Terrakion thinks _Oh_ because maybe this is what arousal feels like. “I don’t know,” he says truthfully, bewildered still from the reactions of his body. Does he blush, too? “I never did.”

“You might be asexual,” Armin says thoughtfully. “So you might not even like it. But- I’d like to try, sometime. When you’re ready. You don’t have to,” he ends and Terrakion watches him bite his lip and thinks of his kisses again.

“We can try,” he hurries to say. “I never loved someone before, too. Before you, I mean.”

Armin’s eyes darken at that, pupils dilating a bit, and he bites his lips again, and Terrakion thinks he is pretty sure now what that twisting is, that heat building up in his chest and between his hind legs. Because Armin is beautiful and when he looks at Terrakion this way, it is almost too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


	11. Chapter 11

“How long are you going to stay?”

It is late in the evening and Terrakion and Armin are in another of Terrakion’s sleeping spots. Armin thinks it’s charming: old, gnarly trees grow right next to two mossy boulders, creating a sheltered place between. The crowns of the trees are thick and overgrown with creeping plants and Terrakion has told him that he’d planted the trees himself. Close-by is another of the many brooks watering the forest and the soft sounds of moving water create a pleasing background melody.

“I took off a week,” Armin replies and watches as Terrakion walks in tight circles, bunching up dead leaves on an exquisitely mossy spot to create a comfortable layer to sleep on. His backpack hangs off on a broken branch and this time, Armin takes the blanket out of it for tonight’s sleep.

The prospect of once again cuddling close to Terrakion has him a bit more nervous and excited than last night. Then, he’d been full of emotion and exhausted and eager to rest, delighting in the warmth of Terrakion’s body. He remembers how comfortable it was, sleeping close to him, snug against his body. Now, he thinks of his daring mention of sex and the way Terrakion has looked at him, and his heart is beating a bit too quickly for sleep.

He’s young, for goodness’ sake. Can’t blame a guy for being nervous sleeping next to his- well. Boyfriend. It’s an exhilarating thought, thinking of Terrakion as his boyfriend, and Armin is quick to drop right in that nook between Terrakion’s front legs and his chest and belly, face feeling a bit warmer, eyes on the Pokemon.

Terrakion shuffles and holds the eye contact, leaning his head a bit closer. “That’s nice,” he says, and Armin smiles because he knows Terrakion isn’t lying. “But we will have to think about feeding you. You weight nothing; I don’t want you to starve.”

“I’m not starving,” Armin protests and wraps the blanket around himself, wriggling closer. Terrakion’s head is nice and close and he can feel the Pokemon’s heated breath on his skin. He hopes fiercely that Terrakion isn’t asexual. Not that he would mind too much - he still loves him, he thinks. Will still love him, even without certain things.

How they would go on about those certain things, Armin has no idea, but he’s perfectly willing to try them all out.

“You’re like a little bird,” Terrakion continues, and Armin notices that he’s trying to tease him. His smile grows into a grin. “Small and light and excitable. A pretty little bird.”

“Should I peck you?” Armin asks and laughs at Terrakion’s baffled face. He stretches out and presses his lips on Terrakion’s cheek, and it feels as novel and nice as the first time. More quick kisses follow, along Terrakion’s jaw and then on his lips when the Pokemon doesn’t protest, and when Armin pulls away, face hot now, he can see how Terrakion’s eyes have darkened and how the Pokemon follows Armin’s movements.

“I thought-” Terrakion clears his throat and to Armin’s delight he _flushes_. “I thought those are kisses?”

“Small, quick ones: pecking,” Armin explains. “There are others, too.”

“Oh,” says Terrakion, keenly interested, and Armin laughs again. “Show me?”

It’s really awfully nice, kissing Terrakion. It’s not like kissing a human, not at all - Terrakion’s face isn’t made for that. His mouth is broad, his lips undefined, and anyway he’s far too big to kiss properly. But Armin can smooch his lips against his warm skin, can move them slowly around, and then he licks along the lines of Terrakion’s mouth until he opens it.

He can definitely, slowly and languidly, catch the tip of Terrakion’s tongue and press his own against it.

The Pokemon startles at first, probably unused to the sensation, but Armin simply waits for a bit and continues to kiss him like that. He lays stretched out, upper body hanging over Terrakion’s thick front legs, legs kicked out and feet pressed against Terrakion’s thighs for purchase. His naked toes curl lightly from all the kissing and when he dares to suck on Terrakion’s tongue, the Pokemon makes a deep, growly noise that tingles all the way down Armin’s spine.

Curious and not unaffected, Armin pulls a bit away, smiling sheepishly when Terrakion stares at him. It’s a nice stare - full attention, pupils dilated, mouth still open and tongue lolling out. “Oh,” Terrakion says roughly and swallows. Then he shifts again and looks down his own body, a bit alarmed.

“Something wrong?” Armin asks, worried now, and follows Terrakion’s eyes. And then- “ _Oh_ ,” he repeats, a bit breathless.

Look who isn’t asexual at all.

“You liked that, huh,” Armin says slowly as they both stare at Terrakion’s crotch. He’d checked it before, subtly of course: Usually, the ridged underbelly is smooth but for the ballsack, which is a shade darker than the rest of the beige skin. The smallest swell suggests a hidden pouch, but for the most time, only the heavy ballsack and Terrakion’s deeper voice mark him as a male, beyond his own identity.

Now, however, the pouch is much more pronounced, and between the incredibly soft-looking folds flushed flesh peeks out, slowly growing out of it. Armin stops breathing for a moment, feeling awkward and not at all able to handle the situation. He also feels excited and aroused and hyper-aware of how close his feet are to Terrakion’s half-hard cock.

It’s a big cock, no matter that it’s only just pushing out of the pouch. The tip is flattened and kind of blooms as it swells further, the slit smack in the middle. The head flares out only lightly before going into the shaft, which isn’t pure reddish in colour but flecked with brown and beige spots matching Terrakion’s colours. It has remarkable similarities to a Rapidash’s penis, Armin thinks. But during his time working in the rehabilitation centre (during which one sees a lot more Pokemon genitalia than most people think), he’s never been quite so attracted to a cock before.

“That’s- new,” Terrakion says with a bit of a strangled voice.

“Yeah,” Armin agrees and swallows. His toes curl a bit more, and after a quick glance at Terrakion, Armin moves them, slowly, closer. The back of his right foot touches the growing erection and it feels so warm and smooth. Terrakion hisses, but it’s a pleased sound, followed by an instinctive rut. “Do- do you like that?” he asks and moves his foot again, his toes pressing lightly against Terrakion’s balls. He can’t quite look away as the Pokemon hardens fully in front of his eyes.

“Yes,” Terrakion says, voice rough and eyes glassy. “Can you-”

“Maybe, uhm… let me just-”

It’s pretty awkward, navigating their bodies when it’s mostly dark. Armin sits up and accidentally kicks Terrakion’s leg as he scrambles towards his prize. It’s not the first cock he wants to touch, not the first Pokemon he ever entertained certain ideas for. But the cocks he’d touched in a sexual way had been human cocks, and his fantasies about Pokemon were the idle dreams of a young man. He’d done the same with celebrities and people close to him he’d never want to date in real life.

This is pretty real, though. He likes Terrakion a lot - his terrible fright before is proof for that. And Terrakion likes him, too. So, they’re together. And now Armin is going to do something that couples do.

“Armin, what are you- wait, what- _Armin!_ ” Terrakion hisses, then grunts, then moans in that exact order. Armin can’t fault him and is quite smug about it, too - wrapping his hands around the cock, letting his fingers stroke up and down its length, then going in for a taste, lips pressing against the flat cockhead, he feels like an experienced lover teaching Terrakion the fun of sex. And really, between the two, Armin definitely has more experience overall.

He wants Terrakion to feel good, dammit. And it feels nice, letting his tongue flick over the twitching cockhead until he finds the slit to play with. It feels nicer with his hands wrapped around Terrakion’s shaft, slowly stroking as he licks and kisses the tip.

“Do you like that?” he asks, not looking up - he can hear how well Terrakion likes it, can hear his surprised grunts and Armin’s name uttered with shock and pleasure. Terrakion is helpless underneath Armin’s tongue and lips and hands and it’s unbelievably charming.

“Yes,” Terrakion hisses, writhing a bit but overall mindful of the squishy human between his legs. “Is that kissing, too?”

“No,” Armin says with more courage than he’d thought he’d have. “I’m going to give you a blowjob.” He nearly laughs at Terrakion’s confused sound; of course, the Pokemon wouldn’t know human slang. Oh, well. He will explain it later. For now, he lowers his head again and tries to fit the whole cockhead in his mouth.

It fits, but barely, and he has to be extremely careful so that his teeth won’t scrape, but it fits. Only the very tip and some of the shaft, but Armin doesn’t mind as he experimentally sucks on Terrakion, his hands now cupping right underneath the cockhead. The flat tip makes it hard to use much of his tongue, so he keeps it simple and flicks it against the slit in the middle or rubs it along the edges.

“Armin,” Terrakion moans loudly, his breathing coming hard and panting. “F-feels good, Armin, please-”

Armin hums, and Terrakion’s hip thrust a bit forward and his cock slides in just an inch deeper, but it’s enough to make Armin choke on it. Sputtering, he lets the cock slide out. Immediately Terrakion makes a needy noise, almost a whine, and they both stop in their tracks, looking at each other.

“Don’t,” Terrakion warns, but Armin is already snickering. “That wasn’t me!” the Pokemon protests.

“It so was!” Armin crows in delight and lets his hand slide down Terrakion’s cock. The legendary Pokemon whines again and Armin beams. “See?”

“Unfair,” Terrakion pants and tries to glare at him. “You are misusing your position.”

Which makes Armin blink, an idea forming that has him blush deeply. “Do you want the same?” he blurts out. Terrakion seems confused, so Armin wriggles out of the blanket that pools in his lap. His own erection is pretty easy to spot in his pants.

Terrakion’s tongue lolls out and Armin feels, ridiculously, proud of himself for that reaction.

\---

Terrakion’s tongue, Armin notices blissfully, is perfect to press his own cock against.

\---

He’s, however, wholly unprepared for the amount of semen his new boyfriend produces. (It tastes earthy and not at all bitter, though, which is awesome.)

\---

“Armin?”

“Yes?”

“You liked my seed, yes?”

“Hmh-mh.”

“Yours tastes horrible.”

“I can eat fruits for the next time.”

“What does that have to do with your seed?”

“Well, it’s a trick, you see…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**
> 
> I had to cut off here to keep consistent chapter wordcounts. Don't worry, we still have the epilogue for those two love birds. Rating bumped up to E.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Finally! Bonus length for the last chapter, plus some extra smut because I can't help myself.

Terrakion waits, body lowered to the ground and trying not to fidget too much. It isn’t that rare for Armin to be a bit late - traffic, he has learnt during the last eight months, can be tricky. And with spring finally here, warm and spicy and green and growing, humans like to travel around and visit each other when during the winter, they tend to spend more time at home to keep warm.

But the Pokemon is waiting for a couple of hours now. Midday, Armin has said. He would be here around midday.

Worry creeps into his thoughts, unbidden and unwanted. More than once Terrakion had tried to march up the human street in search for his partner, only for Armin to nearly drive him over. The narrow street leading through the younger part of the forest (“For the hikers,” Armin had said when he showed him) bends in many curves and is hard to navigate.

He could try and keep _next_ to the street. But Armin would scold him anyway for worrying.

(Even though the human is worse than him. Despite Terrakion being a _Sword of Justice_ , Armin is wont to come rushing in when he thinks he’s in danger. It’s adorable and frustrating and unfair that Terrakion is expected to just sit and wait.)

Finally, the sounds of a car are closing in. Perking up, he lumbers forward and settles closer to the small parking lot. Armin always only drives this far into the forest; when Terrakion had offered to make a path for him, he’d argued that it would be really selfish to accept that offer.

Terrakion hasn’t asked again, not even during the building of the little cabin when Armin had to carry a lot of things over the uneven forest ground. A smirk tugs on his mouth when he remembers those months of building it up together each weekend. Winter has cut off their time together, with Terrakion mostly visiting Armin at his settlement and scaring his little friends, but now the streets are clear and the weather warmer and he’s coming back-

Before he can jump onto the parking lot, he restrains himself, keeping an eye out for the familiar car. There it is, speeding along, and then the car comes to a stand and Armin jumps out, hair a bit dishevelled and cheeks a bit flushed.

“Terrakion!” he shouts and only _then_ does the Sword come out of the woods to receive a warm hug and a lingering kiss. “I missed you. Is everything alright?”

“It is now,” Terrakion replies and delights in Armin’s pleased blush. He leans forward and slowly nuzzles against his jaw and he can hear the way Armin’s breath catches and his hug gets a bit firmer and-

“Help me move my stuff?”

With a groan, Terrakion wriggles out of Armin’s arms and listens to his laugh. “Can we not do that later?” he asks but already Armin is at the back of his car, wiggling his eyebrows with that mischievous look on his face.

“And do what instead, on this very open place?”

Just for demonstration, Terrakion looks to his left and to his right. The hiking trail is a bit overgrown and looks unkempt and the same holds true for the parking lot. “Nobody ever comes here besides you and your friends,” he rumbles, but he lets Armin put a couple of his bags onto his back.

“It’s still public. Besides, I want to see how the cabin’s doing and then we can celebrate.” Armin smirks, but he cannot hide his own impatience as good as he’d like. Not from Terrakion, anyway, who huffs and nudges him along to hurry up.

The car is emptied and locked and soon they’re on their way. Armin is in a good mood; he keeps teasing Terrakion, sly as he is, keeps close as he talks, one hand lingering on his neck in a way Armin knows that the Sword loves. It becomes hard to concentrate on the actual topics - how the weeks have been at the clinic since Terrakion’s last visit. A harsh winter and quick melting afterwards brought them many new patients, but now it’s slowing down, hence why he can actually take his vacation time. Apparently, his friend Ben is marrying in the summer, a childhood friend of theirs who lives in another city but who will move to their town; Armin talks about many little things as well, some new flowers in the gardens and a new piece of equipment they got for a lower price, and it is all very interesting and such, but Armin also keeps distracting him with small smiles and glances from underneath his lashes and his fingers curving slightly and pressing into his neck and-

Well. If Terrakion walks a bit faster to get to the cabin, who could possibly blame him? Definitely not Armin, who laughs at him the moment he notices but walks faster as well.

By the time they reach the cabin, built close to one of Terrakion’s favourite sleeping spots by the mossy boulders, the Sword is almost ready to jump his partner. He restrains himself again, though. Waits and watches as Armin inspects the small little cabin that’s just big enough for him to live in. “I think everything’s alright. The stove looks good as well,” he finally announces and disposes of his bags and things inside the cabin.

Then he comes out of it, and Terrakion is tired of waiting and closes in to finally nuzzle his human. “Are we private yet?” he says and he knows there’s a bit of a whine in his voice, but winter has been long. When he visits Armin at his human settlement, there is always somebody about and neither he nor Armin want to broadcast their romance. Which pretty much means that it has been _months_ now.

Thankfully, Armin feels those months as keenly as he. It is only fair, to be honest - the human has shown him the delights of physical pleasure, after all. And ever since his first time properly mounting him, Terrakion thinks there aren’t many things better than that.

“Yeah,” Armin says and laughs and blushes prettily, and then he kisses Terrakion, his lips lingering. “I think we’re private. I really _missed_ you, Terrakion.”

“I missed you as well, Armin,” he replies. The ground is a bit wet, but Armin pulls lightly at his horns. Terrakion follows gladly into the hut, which has only one room and not much space, but enough for Armin and, with the table shoved against one wall, enough for Terrakion to settle down there, too.

Definitely enough to roll onto his side and make space for Armin, who melts against him.

“I want to see if you still fit,” Armin suddenly announces, making Terrakion sputter with surprise. “What? It’s been too long. I used some things to keep up with it, but that’s barely a replacement.”

“Things?” Terrakion asks suspiciously, but his traitorous body already reacts to their intimate cuddling and Armin’s wandering hands on his chest. He shifts his hind legs to make space for his beginning arousal, but he keeps his eyes on Armin.

“Like, a fake penis,” Armin says, blinking. “I didn’t bring it, but I can show you next time. I bought the biggest I could find, but it wasn’t quite your size. They don’t exactly sell Rapidash dildos.”

“Rapidash what now?” Infuriating and suggestive as always, his human partner. And by the sly grin on his freckled face, Armin knows it well. “I’m not a Rapidash.”

“No, you’re just perfect as you are,” Armin says soothingly and peppers some kisses on Terrakion’s cheek. “I’m just saying that I might be extra tight today.”

Which is exactly enough for his cock to make an appearance. Taking a deep breath, Terrakion pushes Armin away from him, watching the human tumbling to the floor. Overdramatic, the little vixen, laughing all the while. He stays there, watching Terrakion with flushed cheeks and darkened eyes, and the Sword pushes himself up and over him, looming in a way that has Armin’s eyes wide open now, pupils dilating with his own arousal.

He can smell it, the way Armin gets hot and bothered. Can see him squirming a bit, biting his lips.

“Shall we test it out, then?” Terrakion asks, his voice rasping, and watches Armin’s breath hitch.

“ _Yes,_ ” his partner says. “Please.”

Armin is right - he _is_ tighter than Terrakion remembers it. It has taken them next to no time to get the human naked and writhing on the floor of the cabin, legs spread and pulled towards his chest. Terrakion’s tongue feels pleasantly squeezed as he pushes it inside his partner, listening to his stuttering breath. It has taken them so long to get him ready for that first time - hours of watching Armin play with himself, of Terrakion tasting him with his tongue, of easing him into it.

Now, they are back to his tongue, and Terrakion wonders if he would even fit today. But they have some more time, a couple of weeks watching spring truly come to life in his forest and spending time together and making love. He is intimately aware of the weight of his cock and can clearly see Armin’s own erection, huffing hot breath on it to make it twitch. He will make the best of their time together, as he always does.

“Ter- Terrakion,” Armin gasps, wriggling his butt and pushing one foot against Terrakion’s shoulder, toes curling with pleasure when the Sword laps against his balls and goes back to his stretched hole. It’s easier to dip his tongue in, after spending so much time opening it as wide as he dares, and it looks so inviting. _Armin_ does look inviting, his whole body flush and his mouth slightly open, huffing out and sucking in more air, hissing when Terrakion finds and pushes against his sweet spot. “Try it,” the human demands the way he always does when they play with each other.

It never fails to make Terrakion even needier than before. “You have to prepare me as well,” he tells Armin, anticipation rolling hot in his stomach. “Don’t be impatient now.”

“After half an hour of you eating me out?” Armin sounds annoyed, but he slowly reaches for one of his bags, apparently not willing to sit up. “Come closer,” he says and pulls out one of the bottles Terrakion has quickly come to love. Lube, he decides, is one of human’s greatest achievements.

And after months of winter and not doing much, feeling Armin’s clever hands on his cock, slick with lube and warm and eager, is somehow a lot better than he remembers.

“Don’t stop,” Terrakion murmurs as he watches Armin work his way up and down his hard cock. It tingles like electricity up his spine and he grunts with pleasure, hips jutting forward. “Don’t- just there..!”

“Don’t you dare come now,” Armin hisses, but his hands gather more lube and coat him again, fingers pressing and massaging and squeezing deliciously over the length of his shaft. “I want you inside me, you hear that, don’t you dare-”

With a low growl, Terrakion pushes at Armin, and his human grins in victory, scrambling to get on all fours. The sight has the Sword nearly see red with lust; it is one he will remember forever, the pretty human on his hands and knees, butt in the air, wet with his saliva and slick with lube and oh so inviting. He quickly moves forward, not quite mounting him but standing above him, belly and chest gliding along Armin’s back as he tries to guide his cock between those spread cheeks.

Pushing inside Armin feels a lot like their first time trying - the resistance of his muscle, clenching when he tries to get his cockhead through, Armin’s short gasps and trembling body underneath, his own fight against his impatience. It takes long, to coax his cock to breach Armin’s body, and longer still before he can push further, slow little thrusts as he carves himself some space. It leaves Terrakion trembling and sweating himself - every inch of him wants to thrust forward, to slot into this delicious heat, velvety walls squeezing what is inside of Armin.

To restrain himself, to keep utter control of his movements, is what makes their couplings so sweet to him, so desirable. He doesn’t want to hurt Armin, never ever again, so he moves slowly, ever so slowly, inch for inch sliding into that tight, hot hole. Wait, pulling out again, pushing deeper, wait. Listening for Armin’s breath, for the small sounds he makes, feeling him relax before trying anything more.

He knows the way Amin’s body would bulge with his cock inside and can picture it now - belly swollen from Terrakion’s intrusion, legs trembling and face flush, beautiful in every way possible. With that thought in mind, Terrakion lowers his head and pulls out almost entirely, his balls already pulling up in anticipation.

“I’m ready,” Armin says, a keening to his voice that propels Terrakion immediately into action, thrusting forward and feeling his shaft sliding inside. The friction makes him lightheaded with pleasure and his legs nearly buckle, but he keeps his position, pulls out again, thrusts back inside. It is hard to keep his composure, what with Armin’s delighted moan, with the way his body clenches around him, but Terrakion keeps his pace until they’re both desperate for more.

Then, and only then, does Terrakion let go of himself to answer to Armin’s heated begging and demands. Hips snapping forward, his front legs pin Armin in place as he starts to fuck him earnestly, cock pounding into him with speed.

“Terrakion!” Armin cries, and then his body tenses up and he comes. The smell of Armin’s seed is overwhelming and Terrakion rolls his eyes backwards, their body rocking together back and forth, and he braces himself as the heat takes over. With a roar, he comes as well, cock thrashing inside his human lover as he releases his seed.

For minutes, he cannot do anything but breathe. It is Armin who is the first to move, wriggling out of Terrakion’s embrace with jerky movements. Terrakion feels his softening cock sliding out of Armin’s ass and then the human is in front of him, allowing Terrakion to neatly collapse onto the wooden floor.

A moment later, Armin slinks into the space between his front legs and his head, still flush and warm and sweaty, his body weak from exhaustion but with clear satisfaction on his face.

“I’m really glad I’m back,” he whispers with a smug little grin and Terrakion laughs as he rearranges his own limbs for Armin to lay comfortably.

“I’m glad, too.” That he met Armin at all, back last summer. That he went out to find Terrakion when he was stubborn. That he nearly demanded they’d try to be together that first night. That he is here now, with Terrakion, smiling at him in a way that shows how much Terrakion is loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


End file.
